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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578911">RPM | SF9</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/keuraeseo/pseuds/keuraeseo'>keuraeseo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SF9 (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Dubious Science, Gangs, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mafia AU, Mild Gore, No Romance, No Smut, Short Chapters, sorry bout it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:01:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/keuraeseo/pseuds/keuraeseo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>RPM MV Expansion Pack</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nine Point Rings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Baby's first fic!</p><p>It's a work in progress, I just really like the RPM video lol</p><p>+ The chapters are pretty short just because I personally prefer short chapters ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just a guide to the Rings' names + respective functions. I'll fill in the blanks as they're mentioned. I'm all about the lore.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Nine Point Rings</strong>
  </span>
</p>
<p>• <b>1</b> •<br/>-</p>
<p>• <b>2</b> •<br/>-</p>
<p>• <b>3 </b>•<br/>-</p>
<p>• <b>4</b> •<br/>-</p>
<p>• <b>5</b> •<br/>-</p>
<p>• <b>6</b> •<br/>-</p>
<p>• <b>7</b> •<br/>-</p>
<p>• <b>8</b> •<br/>-</p>
<p>• <b>9</b> •<br/>Gudo Ring<br/>[구도]<br/>Silencers</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I acknowledge that I'm probably the only one who has these memorized.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">4am. 76ºF. Kang Chanhee wasn't sleeping well, and his stifling apartment wasn't helping. The building's heat was on constantly, and nobody has made a move to fix it even though it wasn't yet cold enough outside to justify it. It had been this way for a while, and it had been maybe two weeks since he'd last slept through the night. Maybe.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After lying for what felt like hours with his eyes closed, trying to convince himself he was about to fall asleep any second, Chanhee finally conceded with a deep sigh as he sat up in bed. He dropped a hand on the switch of his lamp, dousing his skin in warm light from his nightstand. As he slouched forward and ran a hand over his forehead, Chanhee knew the perspiration that gathered over his fingers wasn't entirely due to the still air; he was stressed, and there wasn't a waking moment where he'd gotten a break from thinking about it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Rent + food + water + electricity. I'm good for at least —pspspsps—five months? Few months. Probably less, let's say two months. You can't plan an emergency, I should just assume something might happen that I'll need at least half of that money for.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was the fourth time today he'd crunched the numbers for the amount that his bank account could handle. It wasn't that he thought the outcome might change, but he found reaching the same conclusion over and over vaguely reassuring. He still had as much as he had last time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chanhee buried his face in his hands for a moment before running his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. His hair was thick, and when it was hot like this he could barely stand it. But he'd just tinted it blue a few days ago and it looked so <em>cool</em>, he couldn't cut it yet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>I need more money. Money isn't coming to me, why isn't money coming to me? The city is so big, there has to be </em>some<em>body who has need of me. Maybe my identity has been wiped. Maybe I'm old news, and they've got someone better now who can do more than me. Maybe I need to just cut my losses and get a real job.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chanhee's previous work experience was limited to a part-time job at a bookstore and an internship. He'd worked at the store for years until it closed, and it was a good enough at the time, but he ended up not taking away much from it in the long run; there's only so much one can learn about keeping a business afloat as a part-time employee in a dying trade. After the store closed he wasn't too upset since it wasn't something he was likely to miss. He liked the environment, but the work itself was something he would gladly never do again, and he was open to trying just about anything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He searched for a while for something else, until an opportunity fell into his lap. Some commission work. It wasn't anything Chanhee had considered doing before, but when the offer was made, he figured it was worth a shot given it was a one-time affair and they were paying more than he could've asked for. </span>
  <span class="s1">The only catch was that it wasn't <em>entirely</em> legal, but even despite Chanhee's careful tendencies, he was in a position where he didn't have much to lose. Well, besides his sparkling record and reputation, but he was young enough that he didn't bother considering either of those things too heavily. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.........</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At first, Chanhee hesitated. He had some vague social strings to his father's previous employer, with whom he'd interned for a summer, and Chanhee guessed he'd made a good enough impression. Or at the very least, he'd convinced them he wasn't a total idiot.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This employer approached Chanhee with an unconventional request that they didn't want on the record—they wanted someone they could trust, who could get it done with no footprint left behind. Since these were people Chanhee knew, he knew their word was good: They would pay him an obscene amount of money to quietly undo the security network surrounding one of their old branches, get the information they needed, and he would lock it back up before leaving.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The reason they asked this of Chanhee specifically, was because it was a task that needed to be done in person. The information they were looking for hadn't been logged into a digital platform, so it was sunk at the bottom of a research facility in their printed records. And they were hurting for people with appropriate knowledge of how to breach a security system undetected, get in and out without making a big deal about it, <em>and </em>wasn't directly connected to them. That was really all he needed to know to accept.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chanhee worked alone, and he worked best under a strict set of guidelines to follow. He just had to go down the checklist, so of course it went well, better than expected, in fact. Chanhee had completed the task in less than half the allotted time, and he received a bonus for exceeding expectations, likely due to his help meaning they would avoid legal complications. He was paid later in the week, and within the month Chanhee had been presented with a similar proposition from someone else by recommendation, which he had no reason to refuse.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.........</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Until now he'd been working so consistently that money wasn't a concern, but this months-long gap between jobs had been the first to truly make him nervous. This was a feeling he didn't miss—of financial instability—and Chanhee was beginning to consider what would happen should he run out enough that he could no longer stay in his apartment. The thought made his stomach twist, which he acknowledged by leaning further forward as he crossed his legs under him, gripping his hair at the root.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The problem was that Chanhee relied entirely on clients coming his way; but recently they hadn't been. This was the first time he'd felt a need to reach out himself, and he wasn't sure where to begin. Even when he started he hadn't advertised, and it was such a niche area of work, he wasn't even sure <em>how</em> one would advertise it. But he'd managed to keep the chain going for long enough that he was comfortable! Somehow!</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What if it was just a fluke? Had he only done so well by means of luck? Would a string like that come again?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Why is it so <em>hot</em>..." Chanhee groaned. It had been several nights in a row like this, accompanied only by the sound of the rotating fan. He glanced at his laptop where it sat next to his bed before rolling onto his side and slithering onto the floor. The desk was close enough that from where he was now that he just pulled himself up to his knees so he could do what he was doing, nudging the chair to roll it away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Okay, I just need to try harder. Here we go. I've got this. This is easy.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All he had to do was write a...a thing. He had to write some kind of ad. Or something. He'd figure it out. Work usually came to him, but surely <em>Chani</em> could figure out a way to cast a net without undoing his whole career. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>I can handle this, I can figure this out. I just need to find the best way. Like I always do, I always find the best way, and here I am doing it again. It's all okay, it's okay.</em> He absently licked his lips as his fingers hovered above the keyboard. And then he just dove in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>"To whom it may..." No. "Greeting-" No. "Hello friends and countrymen." How do you address an anonymous population. What do I put at the end. What do I put in the middle.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After an hour or so of writing and rewriting a wordy open letter, he ended up scrapping the whole thing. There just wasn't a way for him to explain the situation without sounding like a fugitive. But that was okay, he could figure something <em>else </em>out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chanhee stood up, his knees aching from working where he sat without moving on the floor, and stretched for a moment before lazily falling back onto the bed again. He watched the propellors of the ceiling fan spin, too slowly to be doing anything useful, focusing on one at a time. He tried not to think about how hot it was in his bedroom, how still the air felt despite the fan running.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking the words "inhale" and "exhale" as he performed them, an action that he repeated a few times.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Someone will contact me tomorrow. Someone will ask me for help like they always do, and I will help them like I always do.</em>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I don't know what I expected," Chanhee grunted mid-stretch. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He'd managed to fall asleep around 7am, though only for a few hours, and the first thing he did upon waking up was check for inquiries. There were none, but Chanhee was so thankful for those few hours of sleep that it hadn't sent him reeling just yet. But it would if he sat around for too long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt ill from sleeplessness. His eyes were so dry that his blinking was audible, his skin looked extra pale (with the exception of his under-eyes). He felt cold even in the heat he'd been silently complaining about. <em>You'd think I'd be used to this by now,</em> Chanhee rubbed his eyes, slouching over the side of his bed. After a few minutes of quiet sitting and staring at the carpet, Chanhee's brain woke up enough to tell him about everything he's got going on and how much he hasn't done to take care of it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that was enough to have him out of bed, dressed in the same clothes he wore yesterday, and out the door with the intention of just clearing his head by being somewhere else.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Walking outside helped, Chanhee's dark blue hair caught the light, and he ran his fingers through thick bangs to keep them out of his eyes. The warmth of the sun on the top of his head made Chanhee feel a little better, a little less like he was half-dead—like he was being physically recharged.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He walked to the coffee shop about a block away, zipping up his jacket a bit further as he turned the corner. It was cloudy, and the weather was beginning to turn, which made it an excellent day to sip on a warm drink and act like he was feeling fine. Chanhee wasn't much of a coffee drinker, but he found the ambient noise and having people around helped him focus while also lowering the pressure he felt, so it was his work area of choice. If all those other people were there at the same time, surely he was doing about as well as they were too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Today the coffee shop was empty, only the barista there wiping tables as he walked in. Chanhee was promptly greeted with an almost excited smile, which Chanhee barely returned as he walked up to the counter. He picked whatever was cheapest on the menu, and the barista typed in his order before writing his name on a cup, even though Chanhee was the only one there. </span>
  <span class="s1">Rather than sitting down, Chanhee stood there and waited a little awkwardly. He couldn't help but notice that each time the barista glanced at him, he seemed to be looking him over more than he was just offering a friendly customer interaction. He was tall, and looked like a model, and Chanhee wondered if he'd always worked here, surely he'd remember someone who looked like he did.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Did I get the name right?" The barista, whose nametag read "Seok-woo," asked as he slid the cup across the counter. Chanhee glanced at his face before picking it up, and he looked a little expectant, like he was watching Chanhee to open a gift. Turning it in his hand, Chanhee found that Seok-woo had spelled his name wrong, he'd written "Chani." He felt his eyebrow twitch just a tiny bit as he read it, though he was sure it was just a mistake. There wasn't a way for this guy to recognize him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Uh, no, my name is written like," Chanhee wrote his name in the air as he spelled it, "</span>
  <span class="s2">찬희</span>
  <span class="s1">." Seok-woo grinned before leaning forward onto his palms on the countertop.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Is it? I was given your name, and they spelled it like this," he raised his eyebrows as he pointed to the cup and Chanhee clenched his jaw. Did he know who Chani was? Even if he did, how would it be possible for him to recognize him?<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Given...my name?" Chanhee squinted at him before glancing back at the door. He was beginning to suspect some kind of ambush, or something. He didn't know, but something wasn't right.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"There are cameras, but no microphones. You're Chani, aren't you?" He nodded and Chanhee's eyebrows pulled together, he still didn't know what to say.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You must be thinking of someone else, sorry," Chanhee tipped his cup toward Seok-woo casually as he turned to walk out, slipping his other hand into his jacket pocket. His heart was pounding but he was playing it cool enough that under any other circumstance, he'd probably have made it out of there. But these circumstances weren't normal, and he didn't know Seok-woo.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"They also said we're many." </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chanhee slowed, feeling his pulse in the palm of his hand as well as the break of sweat beginning the gather. This would be one thing if it was internet correspondence as usual, but Chanhee had never been approached in person<em>. </em>Was it a setup? It felt like a setup. No one had attempted this before, and what would he even do if it <em>was </em>a setup? He had only a few seconds before he'd be caught either way, if it was a setup, he needed to play dumb. But if it wasn't, he needed to respond, and he needed to do it <em>now</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The wildcard was that this was a code. It was the password to reach out to Chani that he'd chosen, and that had been used for each transaction since the first one. The phrase was simple enough, but not really something someone would say casually, so it always came through clearly. But now he was considering it might actually be <em>too</em> simple, and that maybe someone could actually just guess it. But there was the chance that Seok-woo really was looking to hire him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Less likely but still possible, there was also the chance that Seok-woo was just messing with him and was really good at it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was that he was doing so in person that made Chanhee nervous. If it was a setup, he'd out himself by responding, but if he didn't, he might lose out on the potential client he was looking for. Chanhee looked over his shoulder to see Seok-woo was standing in the same position, watching him expectantly with a dim version of the grin he'd been wearing a moment ago. With his jaw still clenched, Chanhee looked between Seok-woo and the door, as he made a decision.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"We are many," he sighed, "You are alone."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.........</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was the first time Chanhee had been recognized in public, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He especially didn't expect someone to know him so close to home, and he wondered what he may have overlooked in keeping his private life, well, <em>private</em>. Until now, Chani had been a faceless entity, so clearly he'd fucked up somewhere if he was found so easily. </span>
  <span class="s1">Seok-woo just grinned in response as he grabbed a marker and gestured for Chanhee to hand him his cup again, which he did without thinking, and he quickly scribbled something on it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Meet me here at 9pm, I'll just fill you in, you don't have to accept right now," he handed back his cup. Chanhee glanced at the address, then back at Seok-woo, who'd leaned back on the counter behind him with his arms crossed, grin still slightly present; though, it faded when Chanhee didn't respond, and Seok-woo glanced between his face and the cup in his hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Did I...Did I do this right?"<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"How did you-"<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"No, nevermind," Seok-woo motioned to shoo Chanhee away, which he obliged in confusion, "You can explain it to me later."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Seok-woo had something of a commanding presence, it might just have been that he was so much bigger than Chanhee, but it made him feel like he wasn't going to get out of there without his permission. And it was worse because that did end up being the case. </span>
  <span class="s1">Chanhee left immediately, and he had no idea what had just happened. Seok-woo was nice enough, he didn't speak to him any certain way, but his confidence that he knew who Chani was felt worrying. There had never been photos of him, only his name. And even his given name wasn't particularly uncommon. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Usually Chanhee was contacted via email, largely in code as well, about a time, place, and objective. It was there that he met the people he'd be working with, and he was given instructions to follow. Nothing more, nothing less. In other words: there had always been extremely clear communication of what needed to be done <em>before</em> Chanhee met with anyone. </span>
  <span class="s1">That he'd managed to find him and potentially coordinate times so their paths would cross, worried Chanhee more than he'd like to admit. But it was too strange, and too big of a coincidence. It was weird. But Seok-woo had also done so in the perfect moment, where Chanhee wasn't in a position to refuse even if he was suspicious.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Without another option in sight, and so far no reason to think Seok-woo was being disingenuous besides that Chanhee was very, very nervous, he had no choice but to go.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Opportunity doesn't strike twice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.........</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Back at his apartment, Chanhee spent the following hours mentally preparing for 9pm. He pulled up the address on his phone, <em>it exists</em>. He debated if it was necessary to show up as the Chani Seok-woo was anticipating, <em>probably I should</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To clarify, Chani was not a different person. There was only one Chanhee, but in order to work most efficiently, he found it easier if he <em>pretended</em> to be someone unburdened by overthought. Online he went by Chani, and Chani's judgement was unclouded. Ultimately, Chanhee found he struggled less with making decidedly immoral decisions for the sake of getting a job done.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was just a persona that he referred to by his screenname. It made it just a bit easier to think of it like it wasn't <em>really</em> him out there, a form of dissociation from his own actions. It wasn't like he was committing murders, but Chanhee had some feelings about being involved in illegal activity as it was, he just didn't feel entirely right about it even if he was good at it. </span>
  <span class="s1">But that was something he was careful to keep in check, for fear that it could spiral into bigger situations than he could handle. It was all something Chanhee wanted to keep out of his daily life as much as possible. He wanted to live normally, and he wanted to keep his hands clean.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chanhee wasn't exactly expressive, but Chani was particularly stoic, and it was just a matter of soothing himself into it. He splashed water on his face, allowing himself a second to feel it drip back into the sink before looking at his reflection and blot the water away. After a few deep breaths, Chanhee felt his mind quiet, and that was really the only difference. Chani was calm, level-headed, and it was just an act. It was simply a conscious effort of ignoring his anxieties, but it was also an act he couldn't maintain all the time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chani was just there when he was needed, and there was a reason he took care of all business.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At 8:40pm, Chani locked his apartment door and made his way down the stairs and outside, no thoughts, head empty.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had rained a bit earlier, leaving the sidewalk damp. Chani watched himself step over his reflection in the puddles, and he avoided clumps of wet leaves that were gathering stuck to the ground. Staring at the ground as he walked, the streetlights flashed in the water that remained as well, and he repeated the address over and over in his head. He was feeling pretty good about this, up until he saw the glaring bright lights ahead of him, which happened to be his destination.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>A McDonald's. He sent me to McDonald's, he pranked me and here I am.</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chani looked around and double-checked his phone that he'd typed the address right...Or maybe he was on the wrong side of the road? Was there another street with the same name?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>This is fine, I wasn't doing anything anyway. </em>Chani sighed through his nose as he looked blankly at the building before turning to go back home. But his eyes met the ground at the same time his shadow began to stretch in front of him from the approaching headlights, and Chani looked over his shoulder to see a car pull over next to him. He squinted in the light as it stopped, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness that was inside the driver's side window.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It took him a moment to recognize Seok-woo, who was now wearing a pair of round glasses with his dark hair pulled back in a beanie. He rolled down his window, meeting Chani's disconcerted expression with a blinding smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Get in!" He said, patting the seat next to him. Chani pursed his lips; needless to say, he'd never had a client meet him with this much enthusiasm before either. He clenched his jaw for a moment as he walked around the car to slide into the passenger seat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"How did you find me?" Chani asked as he pulled the door shut.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Do you want anything?" Seok-woo asked, bring the car up to the drive-thru.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"No," Chani glanced at the building, "How did you find me?"<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"We're going to be out here for a while, are you sure?" Seok-woo rested his forearm on the steering wheel, flexing his fingers.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"I'm sure."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Suit yourself," Seok-woo shrugged.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chani sat back in his seat, for some reason a little frustrated that Seok-woo was being so casual. If he wasn't taking him seriously, the chance that he was just messing with Chani was growing. But at least he didn't seem to be a cop, like he'd feared. At worst he might just be wasting Chani's time, but he guessed the distraction could be helpful in its own way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Okay, so you're the best of the best, is that right?" Seok-woo asked, looking at Chani and taking a sip of his soda.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chani mulled it over for a moment, his lips in a pout as he responded with a quick nod.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You're a lot younger than I expected."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Thanks, how did you find me?" Chani asked again, loudly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I told you—Put your seatbelt on—I was referred to you."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Yes, by who?" Chanhee asked as he absently pulled the seatbelt across his chest, "And how did you find me <em>in person</em>?" He clicked it into place.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"It's not someone you've worked for before, just someone I know who's heard of you," Seok-woo rustled the contents of his bag of food as he started driving again.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"I'm gonna need more than that," Chanhee crossed his arms and Seok-woo smiled to himself. Chani couldn't tell where Seok-woo was driving to, or if he wasn't going anywhere in particular, but it seemed to be a leisurely cruise around the city.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Honestly, I don't know how he knows of you. But he gave me your name and decrypted your IP," he glanced at him, "I just happened to know the right guy to lead me to you."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Decrypted my <em>IP</em>?"<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"You're not in danger, I promise, that thing is solid, are you a computer guy?" Seok-woo waved a couple fries around as he spoke, and Chani shrugged, "Anyway, your identity is safe, this was only for me, because I have a proposition for you."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You realize how shady you sound, right?" Chani squinted at him.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"I do not."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Literally nobody has approached me in person before."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Oh," he looked at Chani with pouted lips, "Well anyway, I want to hire you."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"It's not cheap," Chani sighed, looking out the window.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"And I can <em>pay</em> you. You're the only one I know of who might be able to help me get this done."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Just you? I'm just doing this for <em>you</em>?" Chani looked at him, eyebrows pulling together. In the past he'd always been approached for things that would benefit groups of people, like businesses, but never just one person.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Just me. But I just want to clarify: You don't have any gang affiliations, right?"</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chani shook his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Amazing. So you're just running this one-man show, totally unconnected to any of the people you're working for?" Seok-woo waved a few fries around as he spoke.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"I'll work for just about anyone," Chani huffed, "I think this is the case for most freelancers."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Alright fine, the point is I hear you do excellent work, by which I mean you have a 100% success rate and that is something I really need."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chani blinked and raised his eyebrows. This was the most vague job description he'd ever received, but once again he wasn't really in a position to question it. Seok-woo pulled over, and Chani glanced past his head out the window as a bus drove past.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Alright, let's hear it."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.........</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"So I'll be with you up until this point, where we'll have to split up. I'll stay here," Seok-woo pointed to a spot on the blueprint he'd rolled out across the dashboard, "And you'll keep going this way. Probably. Sound good?" He pushed up his glasses, which looked <em>very</em> smart. But this plan was stupid.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Uhh," Chani started, Seok-woo's inexperience was showing and he wanted to offer an alternative idea but he needed a moment to find it. "Have you surveyed the area in person? There's a lot of things that can go wrong in a facility of this size if we're not prepared." Seok-woo stared at the map with pouted lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Especially for this big space in the middle, do you know what's in there?" This, too, was a first for Chani. He'd never actually had to help <em>make</em> the plan, he just needed to carry it out, and he wasn't sure how much or how little to say.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"<em>Actually</em>," Seok-woo tapped his chin, "we're going to be following someone, so you'll just have to go where he goes."<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"Wait what? You want me to <em>follow somebody</em>? You know people just ask me to retrieve things, right?" Had he even bothered to do any research? If he knew who Chani was, wouldn't that be the <em>first</em> thing he'd learn?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I know," Seok-woo sighed, "It's not what you were expecting," he tilted his head. "But the primary thing that makes you good at that is stealth and speed, right?" He clarified with raised eyebrows.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Sure</em>, he was skilled with picking locks. <em>Sure</em>, he'd shut down tight security without being noticed. <em>Sure</em>, he was even lithe enough that he hid effortlessly in plain sight. The longer he thought about it, the more he <em>may </em>have agreed that he <em>might </em>be perfect for tailing someone. But Chani also rarely had to work in close quarters with other people, and this task had people on both sides: one he's watching, and one watching him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He gave a long sigh, "Fine, but it'll cost extra. And you need to tell me what this whole plan is about, I can't work with you unless you give me every detail." Seok-woo grinned again as he nodded, sitting back in his seat to focus on what he was about to say rather than the map.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"It'll be nothing for you, I just need to see what this guy's up to. But I need to prove it, and it'll be easier with more than one pair of eyes, are you with me?"<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"How do you intend to do that," Chani asked flatly as he propped his elbow on the ledge of his window, "Two of us seeing something doesn't exactly make for proof of anything," he shrugged.<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"You follow him inside, and I wait outside. So I can get a timestamp of him coming and going, you will be there to tell me what exactly he's there for."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chani nodded as he offset his jaw.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Alright, sounds easy enough. Who is it?"<br/></span>
  <span class="s1">"His name is Kim Young-kyun," Seok-woo said, watching Chani's expression change almost imperceivably. His dark, half-lidded eyes widened slightly, his nostrils flared for a fraction of a second, "But he goes by Hwiyoung, have you heard of him?" </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chani is cool, very composed, but he's not exempt from microexpression. Unfortunately for Chani, Seok-woo noticed his reaction, however understated, and it instantly boosted Seok-woo's interest in him. He tried not to show that, however, so he just finished what he was saying as naturally as possible and waited for him to respond.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a prolonged exhale, Chani glanced at the dashboard, then out the windshield, and ran his fingers through his hair with the hand he'd propped his head on as his ears started ringing. He didn't know where to look, he just didn't want it to be at Seok-woo, where he might see his composure beginning to crack. He nodded in consideration, bringing both hands into his lap.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Yeah," he managed with a shallow nod, "Yeah, I know of him."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kim Young-kyun, as the golden child of Gudo Ring, was raised to be cold-blooded. Having grown up in a position of unique privilege and power, Young-kyun carried with him a presence that demanded the respect of even his most experienced peers—a side effect of his grooming to be an even more fearsome leader than his father.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was revered as a prince among gang royalty, the only son of Kim Young-sik, who ran Gudo Ring with a deadly intensity. And for now, Young-kyun was merely his loyal subordinate, who did his bidding with no questions asked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The work of Gudo Ring members was in broad terms, essentially keeping things from getting out of hand. Gudo Ring was there to erase problems that arose, but it was never stated what the best method of doing so was. It didn't really matter as long as it got done.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That being said, a good portion of Gudo Ring affairs fell somewhere on the spectrum from extortion to point-blank executions. These issues could probably have been resolved in generally cleaner ways, for lack of a better term, but that wasn't Young-sik's style. Young-sik wanted blood stains to serve as a perpetual warning.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.........</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Among all of the Nine Point Rings, it was common (though not required) for members to adopt a nickname, and on his 20th birthday Young-kyun rebranded himself as "Hwiyoung." The name had some meaning to him, something about labeling himself as best of the best, though there were whispers that it was just him overcompensating for being the youngest in the Ring.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">While Hwiyoung was good at what he did, he wasn't perfect. He had an impulsive manner, and frustrated quickly as a result of a lifetime of being overindulged. And his latest frustration was his inability to advance, he was too young and inexperienced to take on more, his father said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So despite his protests, Hwiyoung was stuck working in groups, and he wasn't in charge most of the time. Young-sik insisted he needed to take notes on how to properly lead other people, but Hwiyoung wasn't interested in critiques, and it kept him on a routine cycle of getting angry that he wasn't being trusted and not doing the work to prove he <em>could</em> be trusted, out of spite.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.........</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Don't get your hopes up, man," Hwiyoung mumbled to himself as he buttoned up his shirt. He'd chosen a black button-down, rolling the sleeves halfway and tucking the bottom into black pinstriped slacks, a very sleek look that made him feel more like Gudo Ring's heir.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Gudo Ring's heir.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a sigh, Hwiyoung ran his gel-coated fingers through his hair, clenching his jaw as he looked at himself. That morning, he'd received a call to his father's office for a meeting. The last time this happened, he'd been given an assignment that was <em>going</em> to be the one that would bump him up to senior status, he could <em>feel it</em>—until he made the wrong call, and ended up with a blown up van whose contents couldn't be salvaged. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was an honest mistake, not that it was his fault. It was just a stray bullet, and it wasn't even <em>his</em>. But he was calling the shots that time, so it was on his shoulders, and Young-sik wouldn't let him forget it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By now Hwiyoung was simultaneously accustom to disappointment and so tired of it that he might actually do something differently—if and <em>only if</em> he was given a proper opportunity. No more of the stuff he'd been doing, not the <em>usual</em> thing. And definitely not with a group, he didn't need one. He'd fare better on his own.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.........</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As he walked the familiar hallway to his father's office, Hwiyoung's steps were almost silent on the plush carpet. Upon reaching the door, he could see his father's vague silhouette on the other side, and he took a moment to straighten up, flip his hair out of his eyes, and <em>then </em>knock lightly on the door. Twice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hwiyoung opened the door to be greeted first by the glint of the sunlight on his father's glasses as he turned around, standing in front of the window that made the entire east wall. And then he was greeted by a weak smile that didn't show any sort of recognizable emotion.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"<em>Adeul</em>," Young-sik murmured, and Hwiyoung mirrored his smile as he walked up, hands in his pockets. He stood next to his father, who stood a few inches taller still. Hwiyoung in his chic all-black ensemble next to Young-sik who wore an all-grey fitted suit looked nearly ready to pose for a portrait.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"What's the occasion?" It had been a while since Hwiyoung had been summoned for a meeting, and longer still since it had been just the two of them. He glanced at his father expectantly, who was back to looking over the private section of the city that was beyond the window.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Can't I just want to see my <em>son</em>?" Young-sik chuckled as he slipped his hands into his pockets as well, turning to face Hwiyoung. Hwiyoung's eyes flicked from the window to Young-sik two or three times before he answered.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"I mean, I guess so," he shrugged, "Not usually the case though."<br/></span> <span class="s1">"Nonsense, I always want to see you," Young-sik turned toward his desk and gestured to the seat opposite, "Come, sit."</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hwiyoung obliged as Young-sik pulled open a drawer. The seat was made of black leather, and it was deep, so Hwiyoung made a point of leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees so he wouldn't slide back. Once he was situated, Young-sik plopped a folder on the desk facing Hwiyoung.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"But there is an occasion, and I want you to listen carefully," he started, using the stern voice that Hwiyoung knew wasn't to be interrupted until he was finished. Hwiyoung simply nodded in response, as he glanced at the thin folder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I know I've been hard on you, and I should have realized this sooner: You have never responded well to orthodox training," Young-sik tapped on his desk with every other syllable of the statement, saying it as if he'd made a profound discovery, and Hwiyoung's brow furrowed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>What the hell does </em>that <em>mean?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1"><em>"</em>Still, I want you to know I'm proud of how hard you've been working. I see your efforts, and I see now that the reason you haven't been able to excel is because you need a much harder push. You flourish under pressure, <em>I've seen it," </em>Young-sik pulled out his own chair to sit down, and Hwiyoung just watched with the same expression of confusion.<br/></span> <span class="s1">"So I've thought long and hard about this, and this was not an easy decision to make, but I want you to take this assignment I have. It's not like anything you've ever done, nor has anyone else, and you will likely never do something like it again. Interested?" Young-sik tilted his head forward, to peer at Hwiyoung over his glasses as he finished, and Hwiyoung raised his eyebrows.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Of course," he said simply, and Young-sik nodded with a smile as he slid the folder closer to Hwiyoung. </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"There's rumor of a source of..." He paused, leaning back in his chair to move his hand in a circle in the air, drawing the right words forth, causing Hwiyoung to look up from the folder he'd started flipping through.</span> <span class="s1">"...Heavily condensed power. Of course it's only rumor, I've heard it's more powerful than electricity, and that with enough material it has potential to turn back time. I dismissed these rumors initially, and I still would if some confidential information hadn't come my way," he continued, and Hwiyoung's mouth had fallen open a bit as he squinted at his father. Was...Was this the assignment? This clearly <em>made up</em> story?</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I've received word that it's not only real, but we know where it can be found. And we know it can be duplicated, because it's entirely manmade," Young-sik laced his fingers on the desk as he leaned forward onto his elbows, "What do you think?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"I think it's interesting if true, but it sounds a little incredible to be real," Hwiyoung tilted his head as he slapped the folder back on the desk. Young-sik nodded.<br/></span> <span class="s1">"I felt the same way. But you know I wouldn't be mentioning it if that were the case."<br/></span> <span class="s1">"Even if it is real, what good is that to you?"<br/></span> <span class="s1">"You don't think something like that sounds like a good investment?"<br/></span> <span class="s1">"I guess, but isn't that a little out of our hands? Like some other Ring's business?"</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Young-sik sat back in his seat, looking at Hwiyoung intently, "If I have it first, it's my business. And if it's my business, it's my profit." Hwiyoung stared back, fully aware that what his father just said was something that wouldn't leave this room.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Alright," Hwiyoung said with a compliant nod, pressing his fingertips together, "You want 'New Electricity' or whatever. How would you propose I get it?"<br/></span> <span class="s1">"This folder contains all the information I have," Young-sik gestured toward it, "You will go to the facility where it's located, presumably created. Your first task is simply to verify that it's real. Your second task is to get it for me, and this can be done by whatever means you see fit."</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hwiyoung raised his eyebrows, "No preference?"</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"I think the least ruckus that can be made will be best. So I'll give you a third option besides stealing it and buying it, and that is to determine what its contents are."<br/></span> <span class="s1">"...Its contents?"<br/></span> <span class="s1">"For now they're saying it's in the shape of a quartz crystal, but there's some active component that makes it into a potent energy cell. If you can find out what this active component is, that will serve me just as well."</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"How would I-" Hwiyoung paused, his brow twitching with realization before he got to his feet, his hands balled into fists, "You said this one was mine," he said with his voice low.<br/></span> <span class="s1">"And <em>this</em> is how you thank me?" Young-sik glared up at Hwiyoung, who towered over him where he sat. When Hwiyoung didn't respond, Young-sik stood up as he cleared his throat.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"<em>Fine</em>, who is it," Hwiyoung shrugged, placing his hands on his hips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I don't need anyone losing control of a situation and compromising Gudo Ring's name, no matter how minor," Young-sik stepped around the desk to stand close to Hwiyoung, who turned to face him, "<em>You</em> have already done so. You should have your head on the ground, thanking me for even <em>considering</em> your usefulness to me," he growled before backing off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hwiyoung huffed as he rolled his shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest, but opting to stay quiet despite how badly he wanted to tell Young-sik that that was <em>one time</em>. But he knew he knew. Hwiyoung knew very well that Young-sik was just taunting him as he tended to do. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"You have a team of three. And you argue with me again, I'll just switch you out for someone who understands what's expected of them. Because you clearly don't."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hwiyoung bit his tongue, and he tried to keep his brow relaxed so as not to show that he was all but radiating with anger. Even knowing that Young-sik didn't really mean what he said, and that he just wanted to upset him, Hwiyoung still felt like he was about to snap.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"Now, are you going to do as I ask?" Young-sik asked, leaning onto one hand on his desk, and Hwiyoung just looked at him, "Answer me."<br/></span> <span class="s1">"<em>Yes</em>."</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Young-sik slightly shook his head as he looked down at the gold-plated power panel that broke up the otherwise all-black top of his desk, pressing a button toward the bottom, which yielded a faint buzzing sound.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"<em>Good to go?"</em> A voice came through, and Hwiyoung closed his eyes as he exhaled. He knew that voice. He knew that voice <em>well</em>.<br/></span> <span class="s1">"We're on our way down," Young-sik replied with a slight grin.</span></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Feel a little bad abt reposting but. meh. it's all part of the process. Feel like I should post an author's note once this is finished so I can e x p l a i n the process bc it's Much. But idk if that's interesting, maybe I just want to talk abt it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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